Rough Night
by Aspenoir
Summary: Rough days somehow lead to rough nights. Jean x Marco (Rated M for FUCKING.)


Marco Bodt hit the bed with a soft thump. Training had been rough that day, leaving him with endless amounts of emotional and physical scarring – mostly emotional, because Shadis was feeling rather grouchy that day. Thinking back, physical scarring had been just as worse. He had almost given himself a concussion by trying to stay level and balanced on his 3D maneuver gear, only to meet the dusty ground below him. His vision gave out for a good 15 seconds as well as his hearing, and Marco truly believed he was dead. Marco flinched and buried his head into the pillow, thinking that if that was all it took to kill him, he'd be dead before he even took the replaceable life of a titan. Vociferous laughter sounded outside the cabin, snapping Marco out of his lethargic trance. The most recognizable was Jean's, surprisingly—generally he was always the last one to laugh, always so pessimistic about things – even jokes. Since this wasn't normal behavior, it was obvious Jean was inebriated. The whole team would be celebrating tonight. Mostly highlighting the admirable efforts and hilarious downfalls. Marco would have joined, but he was far too tired. Besides, he didn't appreciate the noise that was ever apparent in training, so why not enjoy a bit of peace and quiet? Indolently, he kicked off his boots and slid the jacket from his trim shoulders. There was no effort to change into a nightshirt. In an exhale, he was out like a light.

It wasn't the loud clatter and particularly loud thumping that woke Marco up, it was the sudden heaviness suppressing his body from above. He struggled in vain as his possible assailant slanted foreword. "Boo." A warm voice buzzed, reeking of alcohol. Before Marco could head butt the dark figure in a wild fight or flight response, Jean laughed, causing his over compliant boyfriend's face to crumple in disgust. "J-Jean, I knew you were drinking! You smell…I hate it when you drink. You do realize you're a minor, right? Where'd you even get it?" Marco nagged. A sudden awareness took hold of him as he shoved Jean off and looked around the dark cabin. "Get out of my bunk, everyone'll see!" Marco urged, causing Jean to snicker. "You idiot, can't you see no one's here? They're all outside…which leaves you…" He edged closer, his leg wedging between the freckled boy's legs, pressing against the bulge in his pants. "…and me." Marco blushed, feeling an overwhelming amount of desire. Leaning forward, the drunken military man smashed his mouth hotly against the other, kissing rather sloppily. Jean pulled Marco's lower lip ambitiously, hoping to get him in the mood. This would've been a tad bit more arousing if the smell of liquor wasn't so potent, and if Jean wasn't so messy. Marco considered the pros and cons if he did submit to this…"encounter." There are people outside, and plenty of training in the morning, he thought. "No...They're going to hear you, Jean, I'm serious." Jean paid no attention and pressed Marco against the headboard. "Then…don't talk…duh…so am I topping tonight?" The bed groaned as Jean leaned forward, unbuttoning his and his partner's shirt. Getting under the covers, he grabbed his waist and breathed in Marco's familiar and pleasant scent. "Jean that is pretty much the stupidest thing to say when you're about to…oh…" the trainee whined as he felt a fervent lick grazing his nipple.

"Do you have any other freckles I should know about?"  
"Did you not just say that we shouldn't be talking?"  
"Oh, wow, you're into this more than I am."

Jean rested his hand on the small of Bodt's back, respiring heavily onto Marco's flat stomach. His warm, soft breath hummed gently against Marco's body. Marco groaned and ran his fingers through Jean's hair as his lips ghosted across the now moist skin of the freckled trainee. He kissed upwards to Marco's bare chest, sucking and kissing at it, light bruises dancing across his upper body. "Not so hard…you're leaving bruises…" he huffed, squirming a bit. Jean smiled into the skin of Marco's neck, sucking passionate kisses along his jaw line. He choked down a moan. The elated ecstasy was cut short as Jean abruptly bit down on the trainee's collarbone with a sultry growl, causing Marco to widen his half lidded eyes and sink his short finger nails into Jean's neck. God, how much he wanted him – forget softer, go harder. His breath hitched as he whined out a broken sentence. "_More…more…Touch me…"_ Marco begged, his legs scissoring against Jean's torso, rutting against him slightly.

Jean winced at the pain, jutting his hand down the sheets and grabbing Marco's length through his thick pants, rubbing in small, slow circles. Marco inhaled sharply and softened within his hold, gripping the sheets. "If you're going to play dirty…I'll get as dirty…maybe even _more_." Jean slurred, a wild attempt to seem more vicious than what he really felt. A shiver rippled through Marco's body. Jean squeezed Marco's clothed bulge as he let go and receded backwards as he bit down on the zipper and looked up, expecting some kind of approval from Marco. Marco noticed this and quickly nodded, feeling eager and prepared. Not sure what to do with his hands, he rested them on Jean's bare shoulders, wary of the hot blood dripping down from his neck, scratching them slightly. A soft purr in response. "You know, you're actually better when you're drunk." Marco smirked, feeling Jean tense up. "No talking." He mumbled, pulling down the zipper. Marco slinked out of his pants as Jean breathed heavily on his member, ghosting upward to his lower torso and nibbling at it. Kirschstein yanked on his own pants impatiently, wanting so much more. Pulling Jean upward, Marco traced the lines and crevices of his back as Jean shivered, wiggling out of his boxers. The freckled boy scrabbled to find a comfortable position, knowing what would happen next. Jean waited patiently, attempting not to stare at his admirable size. A nod from Marco. Go. Stillness. Jean flushed as he covered his face. "What, what's wrong?" Marco whispered, undergoing a sense of embarrassment.

"No, it's nothing, I just…I realized you're completely naked… and… I'm…not."

"You're so silly. Just take off your pants. You're doing fine." Marco chuckled in relief.

Jean bit his lower lip as his eyes became downcast. He unzipped his pants and threw them aside as well as his starchy undergarments, a sheet only covering his lower half. "Are you ready?" Jean whispered, kneading Marco's balls vehemently. Oh, no, not there. "Y-y-y-yeah…" Marco sputtered out a little too loudly as Kirschstein covered his mouth. "Sh! We have to be quiet… just…relax, okay?" Both nodded in agreement. Jean winked and gave a quick half smile, dashing under the covers. A few agonizing seconds flew by. Stillness. "Jean…? Are you goin—_ohmygod_." Marco hissed out, his back arching. Jean licked at the head of his dick, still kneading his balls and murmuring. His hot breath made Marco tingle all over, causing him to mutter a few curses and praises, hands darning and twisting the bedspread. "_Quiet!_ People are going to hear you!" a voice sounded from under the sheets. Marco closed his eyes and nodded promptly, as if Jean could see him. Jean continued, bobbing his head up and down, cupping and squeezing at his balls. Jean gripped his cock with his free hand and jerked up and down. God, what a feeling – they wanted eachother so bad it ached. His legs tingled as he wrapped them around Jean, biting his lower lip. Bodt's cold foot rested on his back, causing him to jump. "You're feet are like ice!" Jean groaned against his dick, recoiling a bit.

"S-sorry…Get yourself as comfortable as you can…s-s-s-sorry…"  
"Comfortable as I can? _Don't mind if I do_."

Jean freed his hand from Marco's length to touch himself in a somewhat comfortable position, tugging and feeling around his head, causing his hips to buck. "Jean, god, yes, fucking fuck…" Marco said again, once a little too loudly. Marco wasn't a frequent curser – but when he did it was during sex and in broken, uneven sentences. He needed obvious release. Sensing this, Jean flipped the covers back, licking his lips. "There's…no…way…you're coming…now…not yet…" The dominant male pulled Marco away from the headboard onto his back, using his own saliva as lube. He jerked and tugged at his dick, impatient and fervent to get things started. Marco looked up at the ceiling, attempting to focus on other things, but failing. The way Jean bit his lip and closed his eyes tight had an obvious appeal – it was difficult not to stare or to even smile. Knowing that'd be disrespectful, the submissive male continued to look upward regretfully. "O-okay…ready...okay…" Jean panted, grabbing his partner's waist and pulling him towards him. Grabbing the back of Marco's thighs, he began to thrust foreword, leaning a bit. Marco bit down on his knuckle, his legs quivering with ecstasy. It had hurt at first – it took a couple of tries to get it in the right spot, but they managed eventually. Jean drooled a bit and pushed harder so that Marco's knees were now by his ears, continuously driving foreword. The trainee moaned into his knuckle as Jean let go of Marco's left leg and put a hand across his mouth. Jean held one leg, the other draping over his shoulder. "_Shh…Shh..._" He attempted to whisper, putting his forehead against Marco's. "_Oh, god, please, never leave me… I fucking love you, Marco, hell fucking yes_…" Jean nearly shouted, biting his lower lip until there was a little bead of blood welling up in the corner of his mouth. Marco felt him strike the bundle of nerves repeatedly, causing him to jerk and shudder. His hair was plastered to his forehead, their bodies sodden with sweat. By this point he didn't care if anyone saw them – they'd just continue anyway, so why bother? Marco murmured through Jean's hand, eager to get a word in. The sound of flesh hitting flesh was audible throughout the room – steamy and temperate. Jean slowly took his hand from Marco's mouth and onto his hips, Marco's head hitting the headboard. "I-I-I think I'm going to…come…" Marco struggled to say as he became dizzy from his head repeatedly hitting the headboard. This didn't help out with the fact that earlier today he had a border line concussion. Kirschstein lurched forward and bit hard onto Bodt's shoulder, propelling faster and faster. Marco yelped in pain and pleasure, grabbing Jean's hair with one hand and the other raking Jean's back, extremely impassioned. Marco gritted his teeth as he released, his body giving a few final orgasmic bucks. The transparent liquid leaked onto his flat stomach. Jean threw his head back and gave a final, raspy moan, feeling himself cum inside of his partner. Bruises and welts flowered all over Marco's body, soiling his tan skin. After the two finally caught their breath, Marco looked up at Jean and scowled. Jean gingerly ran his fingers across one of the scratch marks on his back, wincing a bit. The submissive male pinched the back of Jean's neck, pulling him close. He gave him a final, tender kiss, his tongue rolling over Jean's lips. Then bit the absolute shit out of him. Jean spiraled backwards, the metallic taste of blood rushing over his tongue.

"What, in the _fuck_, was that for?" He asked, nursing a bloodied lip.

"It should be obvious. Y-you bit me so many times; I thought I'd return the favor, since you get a kick out of that."

"I most certainly do not get a kick out of that—Jesus that _HURT._"

The couple entangled in a final embrace, the sheets gathered on and around them. Jean kissed the top of Marco's head as Marco felt his slowing heartbeat. The gathering outside had still been going on - apparently Jean and Connie were the only ones who had drank. Keith Shadis would definitely never let them hear the end of it when he finds his drinks missing.  
"You know, you really did hurt me back there with the finger nails."

"Which part? And I knew I should have topped – look at us—I'm not sure if I can even sit down."  
"Sorry. I love you."  
"Yeah, you bet sorry. I could have died back there – you almost broke my neck and I think I have dents in my cranium from you ramming me into the headboard." His low voice rang through the air as he gave a light laugh.

"_Died_? You're in good hands – my hands. Stop worrying about dying all the time; I'll be there any time any day. Now sleep before I bang your head on the headboard again, and you'll really have a concussion."

"I love you, Jean."  
"I love you too, Marco."

(((HAHAHAH GI HOPE I FCU KIGN DIE IN HELL I YOU FCIJKING LET HIM DOWN JEAN YOU L ET HI M THE FUCK DOWN HE WAS THE RE FOR FUCKIGN DAY S DO YOU HEA AYS IT WAS IMPLIED HED BEEN THERE FOR DAY S I HATE U UF AGGOTS YOU WERNE T THER EFO RME WHY THE FUCK D I FUCKING HA TE YOU F A GS)))


End file.
